Not any other way
by Yuyake no Okami
Summary: Your name is Karkat Vantas and, deciding to become the Dragonborn's sidekick might be either the best or worst thing you've ever done. No, scratch that. The best. It's the best. (Johnkat, oneshot, half Khajiit!Karkat because beep beep meow, part Argonian!John because plot, Dragonborn!John)


**A/N: I would say I'm sorry, except not at all.**

 **I regret nothing.**

 **Yes, Karkat is half Khajiit. I couldn't pass this golden opportunity.**

 **... God, I wish there was a mashup category on this site...**

 **(for those who don't know about The Elder Scrolls: Dunmers are dark elves, Altmers are High elves, Nords are humans natives of Skyrim, Khajiits and Argonians are humanoid races that look respectively like lynx and lizard people, Stormcloaks are basically republicans, Whiterun and Solitude are the biggest cities in Skyrim, the dragonborn is a legendary warrior with a dragon soul, the shouts are basically spells only the dragonborn and few people can master, and Oblivion is a shitty place to live in. You're welcome.)**

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you're currently wishing you never accepted this job.

At the time, though, becoming the dragonborn's sidekick sounded like such a good idea: basically nobody would've given a freaky halfblood like you a job, especially with the Stormcloak shit going on.

You aren't even a human halfblood, or an elf halfblood.

As a matter of fact, you have been blessed ( _hah_ ) with dunmer and khajiit blood.

Yeah.

Thankfully, you don't have inherited much from your, now deceased, mother. Just the teeth, the claws, and some embarrassing fur on your ears.

And a tail, but it's not like you're ever going to tell anybody. That tail does not deserve to see the light of day. It doesn't.

Bless your mom's soul, but everyday, every time you see your reflection, be it in a mirror or whatever, your mind automatically goes into "What the unholy hell, dad" mode.

You know Khajiits are not actually cats, and that they can totally have children with members of other races, but still!

Mmm, yeah.

Back to the original topic, you had never expected to be offered a job. And, even if adventuring wasn't your first choice (too danger for an occupation with so many uncertainties), you'd taken it gladly.

Because one, beggars can't be choosers and, two, it was the _dragonborn_. Any kid, at the idea of adventuring with the dragonborn, would've flipped.

You were no exception, and you had accepted with little thought.

It hadn't taken you long, however, to notice something.

The oh-so-famed dragonborn is a huge idiot.

(You growl as you fall victim of the umpteenth trap he prepared for you to fall in.)

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are bathing, naked, dripping water and scrubbing angrily at your furred fifth appendage (ew, no, not that, what the heck is wrong with you you sick fucks) when you hear his voice for the first time: bubbly and smooth at the same time, and something in the back of your head tells you that it should be higher pitched, for some reason.

"Is that a tail?"

You're still naked and dripping when you see his face for the first time, turning with a not at all high-pitched and unmanly shriek. A young man, perhaps of your same age, with creamy skin, raven hair and deep blue eyes, is staring at you, waist deep in the water, only few centimeters or so between you.

As you stare like a deer in front of a pissed dragon, you can't help but notice several things.

One, he's taller than you. Fuck.

Two, he's naked too, or at least from the waist up.

Three, Only humans have blue eyes and fair skin like that, the pointed ears tell you quite clearly that he's not one. Oh, hey there creepily sharp buckteeth.

... Is it weird if you think they're quite attractive?

Because, yeah.

Four, damn. The guy is hot.

Your attention suddenly returns to point two, and you shriek again, covering your manhood (and the tail, fuck the tail seriously) with the shirt you left on a rock when you stripped, looking anywhere but his toned body.

"What the actual fuck?! Who in the most blistering and putrescent depths of Oblivion are you?!"

He honest to Talos _chuckles._

"Wow, gross."

He stretches a bit, and you totally don't take advantage of the fleeting moment in which those weird eyes close to stare at his abs.

He's built, but not buff. That you appreciate.

"My grand-granma went into Oblivion, and she never said anything about blisters, so I doubt it's actually blistering."

Wait, what.

You stare at him, mouth opening and eyebrows rising in incredulity.

"Your grand-grandmother. Went to Oblivion."

He cocks his head (woah, no, let's not think about that, he tilts his head, yeah, that's better), and smiles innocently. "That's right."

You snort. "You're shitting me. The last one to ever go there was Betty Crocker, that batshit crazy Argonian lady from, like, 200 years ago. You are not tricking me into believing she's your ancestor."

His smile doesn't falter. "Why not?"

You hiss/grumble a little, and his toothy, annoying (dorky, cute) grin only gets bigger. Shit, that was a really feline thing to do, wasn't it?

"Well, perhaps because she was an Argonian and you're- you're..." Argh, just what the hell is he? This is so frustrating!

"Half nord, a quarter altmer and a quarter argonian" He offers, helpfully. You make a weird sound.

"If you think me to be so stupid to believe you have lizard blood-"

And you shriek, _again_ , because something juST BRUSHED YOUR LEG AND IT'S SOMETHING SCALED HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK.

Your eyes widen as something green peeks from underwater.

It's a tail.

A lizard tail.

 _A MOTHERFUCKING LIZARD TAIL SWEET SHITFUCKING GODS IN THE SKIES._

Blue Eyes looks back at you, his smile now looking genuinely innocent. "I never met someone else with beast folk blood before. Who was it?"

He doesn't need to ask what he means with that. "My mother."

You're still staring at the emerald scaled tail, in awe, and, while a part of your brain it's telling you that it probably isn't really educated, you can't stop.

"Is... is it real?" You ask, and you can't even bring yourself to facepalm epically at the stupidity of your own question because you're enraptured.

He giggles. "As much as yours is! Unless yours isn't? It'd be a bit weird though. I mean, who the heck wears a fake tail? When bathing, no less. But, hey, tails are cool, so, yeah, I wouldn't really know."

He blinks, looking at you curiously. "Is your tail fake?"

You stay silent for several moments, gazing at the guy with narrow eyes as you try to decide if he's fucking with you or if he's actually stupid enough to believe that.

Judging by the way he stares at you, it's the second.

You take a deep breath. "You think I'm the kind of person who wears a fake tail." It's not a question, you're merely stating how retarded this guy apparently is. As he doesn't answer, you growl.

"Let me tell you something. Tails are _not_ cool. I'm sure and nobody will convince me of the contrary that they were made by the gods in a moment of pure douchebaggery or however you spell it. Like, 'Golly, why don't we make some of those poor fuckers down in Tamriel suffer for the presence of a totally useless fifth limb that will make sleeping on a bed facing the ceiling, wearing pants and moving without knocking stuff down the most difficult and uncomfortable things ever?' That's it. That's what they created them for, because that the gods are cocksucking assholes is well-known, and tails on creatures that do not walk on four legs are useless pieces of shit. So, to answer your question, no. It's not fake, and I sure as hell aren't the person who would wear a fake tail, of all things."

He stares at you, silent, while you pride yourself of this actually quite contained rant.

Who's the one who can't control himself, Kankri? Because it sure as heck isn't you.

The moment of glory fucks off cackling with both its middle fingers up for the universe to see, however, as he starts laughing.

And not laughing as in "quiet giggles", laughing as in "tearing up and holding stomach as the whole body is shaken by gasps and hysterical fits of laughter".

Your pride is kinda suffering for this.

"Holy shit, that was amazing! Are you always this hilarious or did I just meet you in an inspired day?"

You stare at him, mouth agape, as he extends his hand for you to shake.

(he has small green scales on his knuckles. You really shouldn't find them attractive.)

"I'm John, by the way."

You hesitate, before eventually shaking it, grumbling your name under your breath. He just laughs again.

"Well, nice to meet you, Karkat! Now, excuse me but perhaps I should put on something..."

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and _of course_ you had to accept to see John again, even after that flop that had been your first meeting. Why is that?

Your brain (un)helpfully tells you you have a severe case of Crush At First Sight for the dork. Well, in your defense, John is attractive, in a weird and freaky way, and his happy-go-lucky personality, although quite unnerving at times, also kinda refreshing. With a family and friends like yours, his optimism, mixed with a passion for pranks and a dash of obliviousness that sometimes falls into assholishness without even wanting to is... nice.

Oh, and he has gills.

You hadn't noticed them in the river, but they're there, on his neck, small and curiously adorable.

He lets you touch them, and you shiver a bit as they flare against your grey fingers. When he notices, John grins at you, and you gulp, unsure if touched more by him letting you do that, or by his apparent not caring about his being... well, like you.

A freak.

You spend the day talking to each other about stupid shit: you tell him about your father's weird tastes with women, your brother's terrible taste with best friends/boyfriends/serial rapists (no, you don't trust Cronus at all, even if his little brother is a decent person, if a bit clingy), your friends' appalling tastes with, well, friends (a.k.a. you), and he tells you about his father with the happy baking oven, about is dunmer friend, who has became the Archmage, and her twin, who is training in Morrowind with his puppet-obsessed older brother, and his cousin who had joined the Companions when she was thirteen and started acting like a dog ever since.

At the end of the day, you decide to meet again.

You shouldn't want to meet again, you really shouldn't: from your meaningless chats, you in fact understood one thing:

John Egbert is not interested in a relationship with another man.

He isn't against homosexuality or anything, indeed, when you tell him about the fluke you had had with one of your male friends he doesn't look even remotely uncomfortable, but in all the hours you two spent talking about all that ever happened to you since birth, crushes included, his love tales were all about girls.

All of them.

This crushes you way more than how it should.

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you've just been saved by your best friend and homocrush by a rampaging dragon.

The fact that John did it with a Shout, and is now holding you bride style in his arms is not making things easier for you.

"You. Can use the Voice."

Your tone is shocked, by the trauma, the revelation and the awkward position, and John has the decency to look at least sheepish.

"I do. Hehe."

"Oh, no. Don't 'hehe' me, John Egbert. Don't you even dare heheing me."

You poke his muscular chest (holy shit his abs are marble). "Now explain why the hell you are able to shout like a dragon."

He babbles something, and you glare even harder. " _Now_."

He sighs, and looks straight in your eyes. After a few seconds, he finally opens his mouth.

"Karkat "he says, and his intensity hits you "I am the Dragonborn."

" _What_ " is all you can say, breathy and speechless.

He nods, somber like you never saw him. "I am."

No. Nope, you cannot believe that the dorky kid you met a month ago, talked to, laughed with, and crushed on so bad that it physically hurt is the legendary warrior with the soul of a dragon.

Is it because it's just too ridiculous to be real?

Or is it because the thought of John having to fight the black dragon Alduin (and perhaps losing) is too terrifying?

Maybe both.

"Prove it." You blurt out, and John sighs, exasperated.

"Really, Karkat? Wasn't the Shout I used against that dragon enough proof?"

"The head of the Stormcloacks can shout too." is your lame reply.

He looks at you.

"Zu'u tinvaak tinvok do dovah. Dii meyar sil los gein do dovah. Zu'u los dovahkiin, Karkat. "

Oh, ok. You might have felt that phrase vibrating inside your bones.

You think your skull might be rattling.

"... You're the dragonborn."

"I'm the dragonborn."

"And you're also holding me up in bridal style."

"Whoops."

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and...

and John is leaving.

"Do you really have to?" You're about to cry, you can feel it clearly. He pats your shoulder, looking at you with a sad smile.

"I swore loyalty to the Emperor, you know I have to. I'm doing this also for you, you know?"

Damn him and his unintentional passive-aggressive attitude.

... At least, you _think_ it's unintentional.

Your guilt must be showing on your face, because he frowns, and ruffles your hair.

Swoon.

He then proceeds to look at you like some Daedric demigod told him the secret to get immortality, godhood and straight teeth at the same time.

"Karkat" he breathes, "you could come with me!"

"What."

"Yes! You could come with me, Karkles! As my faithful companion!" He takes your hands, and you swear his whole complexion is glowing.

You tell him so. He laughs.

"It might or might not be a Shout still lingering. Now answer."

You grin, despite yourself.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes. Very much so."

You blush. "Then I'm in."

* * *

Three months and hundreds of pranks later, you're starting to regret this.

* * *

Five months and a kiss later, you think that maybe it was worth it. It happens suddenly, when you are both still terrified after a mass attack of no less than three dragons. It's harsh, desperate, and you discover like that that kisses under the rain are not nearly as comfortable and romantic as romantic books and ballads always made you believe.

You don't really care.

* * *

After a year of adventuring together, he shows up with a present.

A really, _really_ interesting present.

An Amulet of Mara-ish present.

"Karkat Vantas, will you marry me?"

You almost don't get angry when the Amulet zaps you with an innocuous (relatively) electric spell.

Almost.

God, your soon-to-be husband is an idiot.

But you wouldn't want him any other way.


End file.
